


that perfect girl is gone

by Selkit



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Post-Canon, Prompt Fic, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 20:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1955805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selkit/pseuds/Selkit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Arendelle doesn't need me. It never did.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	that perfect girl is gone

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a Tumblr fic meme prompt. The prompt was _wanweird_ \- an unhappy fate.

She used to feel too much. Now she feels nothing at all.

Nothing, perhaps, except a trace of irony at the reversal in her fortunes. She doesn’t miss the days of _conceal, don’t feel_ , the years of unrelenting fear and isolation. But she wasn’t looking to replace them with a life of walking through a fog, nothing but existing from sleep to sleep.

She hasn’t lost control of her powers in years. Some days, she almost forgets she has them.

_Isn’t this it?_ She sits on the edge of her bed, staring down at her pale, limp hands. _Isn’t this everything you wanted?_

She thinks of Anna, sleeping peacefully in her own wing of the palace, wrapped up in Kristoff’s arms. Even her sister’s laughing chatter inspires only a hint of vague affection now.

_Arendelle deserves a queen like Anna,_ she thinks. Someone happy and outgoing and warm, someone to mingle with the people for hours and hours, someone able to feel what they feel. Someone with a loving husband and a secure line of succession, someone with three beautiful, healthy children and another on the way. 

_Arendelle doesn’t need me. It never did._

For the first time in what seems like forever, she feels the warm, gentle glow of relief. 

She rises from the bed, moving to the nightstand and pulling out a sheet of paper. _Arendelle goes to Anna,_ she writes in her flowing script, and almost smiles when she thinks of Anna penning royal orders in her chickenscratch scrawl. She pauses, then adds, _with my love._ Carefully she signs it, presses it with her seal. The last thing she wants is a succession crisis. 

A warm summer breeze blows through the open window, ruffling her hair as she turns. She walks to the center of the room, smoothing down her braid, rearranging her nightgown until it drapes around her in a graceful cascade.

A spike of ice forms in her hand, razor-sharp, glittering as though possessed of a thousand tiny fireflies. She positions it beneath her breast, takes a deep breath, and pushes hard.

It _hurts,_ but only for a moment. She bites back a whimper and exhales silently, watching her breath fog in the dark. Automatically her body fights to stay alive, her wounded heart beating faster, trying to warm her. Chills wrack her from head to toe, goosebumps rippling on her skin as her fingers and toes begin to freeze. 

_No, no, it’s all right,_ she thinks, trying to quell her body’s frantic response. It’s a thing of instincts and impulses, not understanding the overriding of her mind.

_It’s all right,_ she thinks again, tipping her head back, waiting as the ice spreads across her arms and down her chest. _Don’t fight it. This is my choice. Just let it go. Let it go._


End file.
